


Like You Wanna Be Loved

by stellare



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Insecure Kurt, M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6939841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellare/pseuds/stellare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fact that they've spent the night together in one of the most romantic cities in the world means absolutely nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like You Wanna Be Loved

**Author's Note:**

> Archiving some of my unfinished work. This is actually just part of a really long oneshot that I had planned but never finished. For now, consider this a standalone, but I may add to it if inspiration strikes.
> 
> Um, this pretty much ignores anything after S4.

He’ll remember October twenty-first as being slightly colder, slightly crisper.

He’ll remember his first cappuccino from Tazza D’Oro as being slightly hotter, slightly sweeter.

His fingers curl around his coffee like a lifeline and he brings the lip of the mug to his mouth in a kiss of comfort. He thinks of lips that tasted of drip coffee and the occasional peppermint, of skin that smelled of a fresh, clean aftershave.

He thinks of firsts and lasts, from the first time they held hands running down the Dalton hallways to the last time they touched fingertips in bed at Kurt and Rachel’s Bushwick loft, both desperately hoping that it wasn’t the end.

He thinks of being naive enough to believe that his first love would be his last.

But none of that matters anymore - it is all in the past, and now he is only going forward, forward.

When he turns down Vince’s idea to become more than friends, he’s still moving forward.

When he calls it quits after Daniel utters that first “I love you,” he’s still moving forward.

Even when he breaks it off with Adam - poor, sweet Adam, with the lovely eyes and the lovely engagement ring (for Kurt, just for Kurt) - he’s still moving forward.

Just as he begins to relax, allowing the smell of the coffee to pervade his space and envelop his senses, he hears a familiar voice drawl from behind, “Well well, look who it is.”

He tenses up, slowly peering around the edge of his chair to see the one and only Sebastian Smythe standing there with one hand in his pocket, the other gripping a mug.

“It must be my lucky day,” Kurt responds dryly, turning back around. Maybe if he ignores Sebastian, he’ll go away.

No such luck, because Sebastian moves to sit down right across from him. Only now, when Kurt searches for any trace of malice in that too-familiar smirk, he can’t find anything. It’s a little unsettling. So he waits for the inevitable effemiphobic comment (Sebastian had plenty of those in his arsenal in high school after all), but that doesn’t come either.

“Where’s the husband?” Sebastian asks instead, and Kurt frowns.

“What husband?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you here for a honeymoon or something? Last I checked, you weren’t exactly rolling in the Benjamins. A honeymoon is as good an excuse as any to go on a European vacation.”

“I’m here by myself,” Kurt answers, his voice a little guarded, taking a small bite from his brioche. “I saved up enough money over the past few years for a little post-graduation trip.”

Sebastian cocks his head to the side. He actually looks impressed. “Never took you for an adventurer. Well, there was Scandals I guess - but you only agreed in order to keep me from getting in your boyfriend’s pants.”

“Who could blame me?” Kurt murmurs more to himself than to Sebastian, but the latter hears anyway and he hides a smile behind his cup.

“So what’ve you done so far, the usual? The Colosseum? How about the Spanish Steps or the Mouth of Truth?”

“Nothing yet,” Kurt answers. Briefly he wonders if he’s fallen into a parallel universe, because aside from the little dig at Kurt’s modest upbringing and ‘safe is better’ mindset, Sebastian Smythe is actually being a decent human being. “I just arrived last night, today’s my first full day.”

“So where do you want to go?”

“Everywhere that you mentioned, I guess,” he says suspiciously. “And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see the Trevi Fountain.”

“Of course,” Sebastian smirks, but again it’s more teasing than malicious. “A coin, a flick of the wrist. It’s a Roman tradition. I could show you where to go after breakfast.”

Okay, things are getting far too weird now.

“What’s your angle, Sebastian?” Kurt asks suddenly. “Why are you being so - so nice? We hated each other in high school.”

And then the bastard actually _laughs_. “I could slip back into my old routine and insult your clothes and say you smell like a lady. Would that make you feel better?”

“No.”

Sebastian shrugs. “So what’s the problem? High school was high school. The only reason why I hated you was because I wanted to fuck your boyfriend at the time. When I lost interest in Blaine, you weren’t even an issue anymore.”

A small part of Kurt bristles at that comment. The way Sebastian said it - _you weren’t even a blip on the radar_ is how Kurt translates it. _Not worth my time_. It’s a quick downward spiral of negativity from Sebastian’s ‘not an issue’ to ‘not enough to keep a guy from cheating’ and as soon as he realizes what direction his mind is going, he quickly pushes that thought process aside. He came here to celebrate graduation, not to mope about. And he certainly hasn’t forgotten Sebastian’s transgressions - how dare he try to excuse all of his behaviors on the fact that he couldn’t keep it in his pants?

So he stares hard at Sebastian. “You said I belonged on a Puerto Rican pride float.”

“I did.”

“And that I had a ‘hard luck case of the gay face’ and would amount to being nothing but a Lima Bean barista.”

Sebastian pauses before taking a sip from his drink. “I did.”

“You also were horrible to Dave Karofsky, made an atrociously racist comment to one of my glee clubbers, blackmailed my best friend with disgustingly doctored photos of my brother - ”

“I know,” Sebastian interrupts, looking vastly uncomfortable.

“And you nearly blinded my ex with a rock salt slushy originally intended for me,” Kurt finishes coolly, sipping from his mug. “It took a suicide attempt for you to realize how much of an ass you were. And I know you apologized. But you only ever wanted to get into Blaine’s good graces - and you succeeded. He forgave you. There’s no one else to impress. So tell me why I should be spending my leisure time, my vacation time that I spent thousands of my hard-earned dollars on - with someone who has a track record like yours.”

By the time he finishes his rant, Sebastian’s shoulders are taut and he’s sunk so far back in his chair he looks as if he might simply fall in. Guilt consumes his features, and it looks so off, so out of place on him that Kurt has to avert his eyes.

“Look, I don’t deny that I’ve made some seriously dick moves,” Sebastian says, looking up. Kurt can feel his gaze, weighted and tense. “The things I’ve done - I have to carry them with me every day. I can apologize until I start foaming at the mouth, but that doesn’t erase the past. You don’t trust me, and I get that - but you have to know that I’m _trying_.”

Kurt glances up at him.

“It’s really hard. I was brought up a privileged asshole, raised on the words ‘don’t apologize, don’t be sorry.’ So it’s hard to own up to everything. But I’m _trying_ to be better.”

Sebastian’s voice is so thin, so heavy with guilt and pleading, and Kurt doesn’t know if he can take it anymore. He finishes off his brioche and gulps down the rest of his cappuccino before standing from his seat. “Then good luck with that.” It’s supposed to be sarcastic, but it comes out sounding much softer, and he realizes that he means it. Damn.

He gives a short nod to the cashier and makes his way out of the cafe.

“Wait,” Sebastian stops him just outside the doors with a hand on his elbow, and at the indignant look on Kurt’s face, he removes his grip and shoves his hands into his pockets instead. “I’ve also realized that I can’t be better without doing better, and that includes making up for what I’ve done. So even though you were right about everything else, you were wrong about one thing.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not just Blaine that I have to impress.”

The words sink deep in Kurt’s mind, and he feels a little dizzy. “Dave?”

Sebastian takes a deep breath. “I went to visit him the day he got released from the hospital. It was the craziest thing. Even after what he’d been through, he looked so - determined, that day. He mentioned something about you and him starting a PFLAG chapter at McKinley junior year.”

“We were supposed to,” Kurt admits. “He never showed up to school after prom.”

“Well, that was the first thing on his agenda the minute he got back to school. I used some of the fundraising money from Regionals to help him start a PFLAG chapter in Auglaize County and set up a QSA at his school.”

Kurt blinks, impressed. “You never struck me as the activist type.”

Sebastian shrugs. “I’m not. But it was important to him, so I did everything I could to make it happen.”

“What about Blaine?”

Sebastian smiles. “Smythe influence reaches pretty far. I’ve got connections to universities on both coasts.”

“So what is it that you hope to accomplish with me?” Kurt asks resignedly. “Play tour guide until your conscience is clear?”

“Unless I can come up with something better,” Sebastian answers. “Cause even though I might think I understand you, you always end up surprising me. I can’t figure you out. But if you let me hang around for an afternoon, I bet I could.”

Kurt considers this for a few long moments in silence, crossing his arms over his chest. Sebastian fidgets in front of him. It’s unnerving.

There are so many things that could potentially go wrong with this situation. Sebastian could lead him somewhere and leave him stranded. He could lead him to a pack of thugs who’d steal his money, beat him up and leave him for dead.

Or - he could end up trusting Sebastian. And forgiving him.

He sighs and pockets his hands. Who is he kidding? There’s only one option, really. “Walk with me?”

Regardless of the outcome, he does need help getting around after all.

\---

Sebastian doesn’t leave him stranded. He brings him to the Spanish Steps and only complains a little bit when Kurt’s inner photographer comes out, begging to take pictures.

They visit the Mouth of Truth, and after Sebastian sticks his hand into the slot, he pulls it back out screaming, waving his now hand-less sleeve madly. Kurt shrieks too for just a split second - and then Sebastian laughs, popping his hand out from within the sleeve, and Kurt smacks his shoulder. Truthfully he’s not as annoyed with Sebastian as he is with himself for being tricked - he’s seen Roman Holiday.

The Colosseum leaves Kurt a little underwhelmed - but he takes pictures anyway just for proof that he’s seen it.

They shop, they walk, they admire the architecture, they find out that they share a love of stracciatella gelato. At sunset they dine at a quaint open air cafe, laughing and chatting and praising the food and making a pact to never again eat at Breadstix whenever they return to Ohio. Maybe his belly is a little too full with pasta, or maybe his buzz from the strawberry wine is a little too strong, but he tries not to think about the way Sebastian’s been sneaking glances at him all day. He especially tries not to think about the way Sebastian’s eyes had darkened when Kurt briefly mentioned that he wanted to add ‘relations with a tall, beautiful Italian stranger on a balmy night under the Roman sky’ to his bucket list to replace his Taylor Lautner fantasy. Still, he’s having fun, and he finds that he doesn’t want the day to end just yet.

Luckily they still have the fountain to go - Sebastian had insisted on going after sundown because, in his words exactly, _it’s like the Vegas strip - fucking ugly during the day, but really nice when it’s all lit up at night_.

The fountain is surprisingly uncrowded for a Friday night. It’s vast and breathtaking with sitting visitors and passersby alike casting shadows on the water and marble and - Sebastian’s right - it’s so, so pretty with the lights. Kurt snaps the obligatory photos and then approaches the fountain, fishing through his pockets for spare change.

“You know how to do it, right?” Sebastian asks, a teasing grin on his face.

“Of course.” Kurt turns his back to the fountain and makes his wish, using his right hand to flick two coins over his left shoulder. It’s a little too loud to hear if the coins made it to the water, but it doesn’t matter.

He turns around to face the fountain again, sighing and admiring the view. Even if that silly wish doesn’t come true, it’ll be hard to be upset about it with this moment locked away in his memory. It’s a gorgeous, chilly night in one of the most romantic cities in the world. The company isn’t enough to deter him from having a good time either, in spite of them having a history.

But it’s strange. True to his word, he’s been so _nice_ and welcoming today - for Sebastian standards. He’s had his typical moments, including the need to share with Kurt a particularly graphic, raunchy fantasy involving the convenience store clerk they’d met earlier in the day - a cute guy with minimal English skills and an eyebrow piercing. 

Anyway, it definitely could be worse.

His cheeks are still warm from the wine, but his mind is clear and happy. This is the most relaxed he’s been all day. “If I didn’t love New York so much I might consider moving here,” he declares.

Sebastian chuckles. “You’d get bored.”

“Maybe. But - I don’t know. This place has everything. Art, music, history, culture. Some of the greatest food on earth. Some of the cutest boys on earth,” he says pointedly.

“No arguments there,” Sebastian laughs, sitting down next to Kurt on the edge of the fountain. “But I get it. There’s something about Italy that makes it an escapist’s wet dream.”

The implication makes Kurt feel unsettled. It hits far too close to home. “I’m not running from anything.”

“No? Then you came here to be romanced.”

A tiny, hidden part of Kurt almost wants to agree, but his sensible side kicks in, insisting that this statement isn’t right either. Kurt huffs out a breath of frustration. “Wrong again. Is it so hard to believe that I came here for me?”

Sebastian lifts his gaze and looks at Kurt head-on, and there’s a heavy, unreadable expression in his eyes. It makes Kurt’s blood rush in his ears. “Everyone comes to Rome for one or both of those reasons. Even callous assholes like me.”

“Which was it for you?” Kurt asks. The air seems to thicken as he waits for the answer. It’s hard to breathe.

“That’s my secret,” Sebastian replies with a hint of a smile.

Damn. “And me? Think you’ve got me all figured out? Know all my secrets?”

“Not everything,” Sebastian answers, his green eyes shifting with alternating plays of light and shadow, and the sight makes Kurt’s stomach flip - not unpleasantly. “But I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

\---

He’s had some good Italian coffee. He’s done the tourist thing and tossed his two coins into the Trevi fountain.

Being pushed up against his hotel room door and getting kissed senseless by one Sebastian Smythe? This was never on the itinerary.

But his body functions like it’s on autopilot, his back automatically arching when Sebastian grinds their hips together, his lips parting when Sebastian’s tongue seeks entrance. He tries to come up with reasons for his response. Maybe it was the way Sebastian had looked at him back at the fountain. Maybe it was the way his voice had dropped - low and rough.

Or maybe it’s just been far too long since he last had sex, and any dick at this point is good dick. Doesn’t matter. But if he keeps overthinking this, he may not be able to get off tonight at all, so he abruptly stops _thinking_ and just starts _moving_. Cracking an eye open to get his bearings, he maneuvers Sebastian to walk backward before pushing him down on top of the mattress and straddling his hips. He opens both eyes now, the outline of Sebastian’s face just barely visible in the darkness, his expression betraying the slightest hint of surprise.

“It’s getting cold out there. Will you keep me warm?” Kurt asks, tracing his fingers down the button placket of Sebastian’s polo shirt.

Sebastian chuckles, his hands trailing up to rest on the curve of Kurt’s ass, the motion making Kurt’s pants just a little tighter. “Why do you think I’m here?”

Kurt only smiles, leaning forward to pull the polo over Sebastian’s head. He discards the shirt with a flick of the wrist and hungrily kisses Sebastian again before trailing his mouth over his jaw and peppering open-mouthed kisses down the column of Sebastian’s neck. His fingers splay out and slide down his chest to his sides, to his abs, to anywhere - everywhere he can reach.

But even _everywhere_ isn’t enough. His hand slips under Sebastian’s jeans, cupping his stiffening cock over his underwear. A deep groan escapes Sebastian’s throat as he thrusts up into Kurt’s hand. He fumbles a bit before tugging Kurt’s sweater and shirt over his head, pulling away for a moment to rake his eyes over his body.

It’s hard to shake old habits, and it takes almost all of Kurt’s willpower to not cross his arms over his chest in self-consciousness. His stomach is toned, but he’ll never have abs, no matter how hard he tries. He’s never been _masculine_ \- and Sebastian had never failed to taunt him about that in the past. Naturally it’s kind of a weak spot for him. His free hand curls into the sheets, waiting for Sebastian’s assessment.

And it takes a while, but Kurt isn’t disappointed.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Sebastian says, finally looking back up. His eyes are wide and dark, the pupils blown across green.

“Really?” The question slips out before he can stop it. So he needs a little reassurance once in a while, sue him.

“Yeah,” Sebastian answers, pressing his thumbs into the soft lines of Kurt’s stomach. “Your skin’s like, _made_ for marking.”

Kurt grins, his fingers trailing down to gently squeeze at Sebastian’s balls. “Hmm, kinky.”

“Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Sebastian groans again, his shoulders tensing up, and hurriedly he goes for Kurt’s zipper, only too eager to remove the rest of their layers. It takes a little maneuvering from both parties - Sebastian has to pull a little harder than he’d expected at Kurt’s jeans (so tight they’re nearly painted on) and Kurt has to wiggle around on Sebastian’s lap in order to get the pants down to his ankles and then off, finally off - and then Kurt is completely bare, his cock curving up toward his belly. The tension deep in his pelvis coils tighter and tighter when he sees the hungry, anticipatory look in Sebastian’s eyes, punctuated by Sebastian squeezing fleshy handfuls of his ass. A brief glint of mischief in those eyes is the only warning he gets before he feels a finger slip between his cheeks and gently circle his hole. The sensation makes Kurt lurch forward, grappling at Sebastian’s back and biting down hard on his shoulder.

Sebastian swears. "Ah, fucking bitch!"

“Warn me before you play with my ass!” Kurt snaps back. “It - it’s really sensitive, okay?”

Instead of lashing back like Kurt expected him to, Sebastian raises an interested eyebrow. “Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.” The words sound so much like a promise, like a _guarantee_ of them doing this again that Kurt flushes darkly.

He’s sure Sebastian didn’t mean anything by it, but it’s probably best to cover his bases anyway. “Focus, sweetie,” he says with mocking tone, patting Sebastian’s chest lightly, and in a strange surge of confidence, he adds, “After all, there isn’t going to _be_ a next time if you don’t do right by me the first time.”

Sebastian smirks again, and it goes straight to Kurt’s groin. “You’re lucky I like a challenge.”

He trails a hand down Sebastian’s side, the pressure gentle with an unmistakable _edge_. “Well get to it then.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes - almost fondly - and makes quick work of his pants and boxers, wriggling them to his ankles and dropping them down the side of the bed. When Kurt lowers himself back down to Sebastian’s thighs, their cocks gently rubbing against each other, both boys inhale sharply.

“Do you - condoms?” Kurt asks, mentally berating himself for how idiotic that sounded. The moment he sees another dick he’s suddenly tongue-tied? He blames it on the dry spell.

Wordlessly Sebastian reaches over the edge of the bed, searching his pants pockets. He resurfaces with a single packet of lube, frowning. “None. Shit.”

Kurt deflates a little, but hell if he’s kicking Sebastian out now. “A minor setback,” he declares, grabbing the packet out of Sebastian’s hands and ripping it open. He rolls his thumb over his fingers, lightly coating the digits with a thin layer of lube. He moves his hand down to his cock, rubbing the head with his index and middle fingers, shivering as warm sparks of arousal run all the way up his spine. Then his thumb and index slide down to the base of his cock, and then he’s pressing down against Sebastian again, thrusting his hips back and forth, laying his hands on Sebastian’s chest for stability.

“Kurt,” Sebastian groans, and his name uttered so deep and guttural and breathy with need makes Kurt’s legs weak, and he thanks the stars he’s sitting. But then Sebastian reaches between them and the sweet, pleasant friction from Sebastian’s hand encasing both his and Kurt’s cocks makes this so much better, so much hotter.

Soon enough Sebastian’s rolling his hips too, matching Kurt’s movements with an undefined but gentle rhythm. Kurt thrums with tension that builds and builds with every movement but stops short at the very edge, keeping his body in a prolonged state of _not quite there yet_ pleasure.

Sebastian’s hand tightens, stroking harder, faster now. All of Kurt’s nerves are on fire, his abdominals and thigh muscles tensing and contracting with the slip and slide of their cocks on top of Sebastian’s stomach. His breath stutters as he teeters on the edge, and he rocks fully into Sebastian’s hand, each snap of his hips bringing him closer and closer and _closer_ -

And then Sebastian tenses underneath him, his hips lifting off the mattress as he comes all over his hand. Kurt allows himself a quick moment of surprise - and pride, if he’s honest - that he made Sebastian come first before focusing on the fact that he hasn’t yet. Then, as if on cue, both of Sebastian’s hands trail to Kurt’s ass, squeezing and spreading his cheeks apart. Kurt hisses, tightening up and digging his knees into Sebastian’s sides - and then a hot finger presses into his hole just so - and he clenches up, gasping as he comes onto Sebastian’s stomach.

His limbs are like jelly when he comes down from his high, and he gathers up just enough energy to swing his leg over Sebastian and flop down next to him on the bed as he tries to catch his breath.

They say nothing in the minutes that follow, and they’re barely touching, with Sebastian’s wrist laying over Kurt’s as the only point of contact. Even with his mind hazy and sated, Kurt finds himself asking a handful of silent questions. Had they crossed some kind of forbidden barrier? They weren’t even friends prior to this, not really. Would they somehow fall back into flinging insults at each other like they did in high school?

They aren’t going to - no. There certainly won’t be a _relationship_ of all things sprouting from this. Last he checked, Sebastian doesn’t do relationships longer than 20 minutes, and Kurt certainly isn’t ready for another one yet - he _can’t_ be in another one. His heart still feels raw when he thinks about Adam and everything that Adam represented - but mostly, there’s that fear deep in his chest - one that he does not want to think about ever, and as soon as it peeks up to the forefront of his mind he pushes it right back down.

That’s when Sebastian cranes his neck to face Kurt, grinning. He holds a hand up. “High five for a great fuck? It’s been awhile since I came that hard without sticking my dick in someone’s ass.”

Kurt vaguely feels like he should be insulted, but he’s not. If anything, he’s a little grateful. It’s a welcome distraction from his previous train of thought. So he laughs, clapping Sebastian’s hand in response. “Not bad, Smythe.”

The laughter gets stuck in his throat when Sebastian lowers his head to kiss Kurt deep and slow. It catches Kurt off-guard, but he welcomes Sebastian’s mouth and kisses back, nipping at Sebastian’s bottom lip and looping an arm around his neck to bring him close. The moment is short-lived though, because Sebastian’s hand begins to trail down to Kurt’s softening cock, and once his fingers graze the tip, Kurt jerks and swats his hand away, laughing again. “Hold on, Casanova. I’m still sensitive down there.”

Sebastian grins mischievously. “Alright, but I hope you realize how lucky you are that I’m propositioning you for round two at all.”

“I shall count my blessings until the day I die,” Kurt counters in a mock-solemn tone. “But can I rest first?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Satisfied with the answer and unable to fight off the inevitable wave of exhaustion any longer, Kurt rolls onto his side and closes his eyes. It doesn’t take long for him to slip under, but just before he drifts off completely, he swears he can feel a warm body spooning up against his back and the sounds of soft steady breaths in his ear.

\---

He wakes up with a shiver. A heavy feeling settles at the bottom of his chest before he even opens his eyes, and he takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. 

It doesn’t help. His eyelids flutter open. The bed is empty. The room is empty. The heaviness sinks all the way to the pit of his stomach as his eyes roam the bedside table for something, anything. The hotel stationery pad reads a short, simple message.

_Thanks for hosting. Let’s go for a repeat some time?_

Despite the second sentence, there’s no contact info.

The sun streams in through the sheer curtains, bathing the bed in light, but Kurt feels sick and cold all over.

Slowly he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to set his feet on the floor in order to ground himself, but he doesn’t stand just yet. He can’t.

_You’re being dramatic. You knew what this was_. And it’s true. He hadn’t expected Sebastian to jump into a relationship with him, nor had he wanted that. It’s just - he hadn’t expected to wake up feeling so blank, so used.

Hell. If this is what a one night stand feels like, he never wants to experience it again.

For a long time he just sits at the edge of the bed thinking. He goes back and forth between trying to forget last night ever happened and reassuring himself that the experience was okay as long as it remains a one time deal. He tries to figure out which option is better, but neither has a particularly strong pull, so he decides to push it to the back of his mind and think about it later.

He steps into the shower, scrubbing away the dried come and lube from his fingers, and somehow he feels better. He turns up the heat, and the water beats down hard leaving his skin pink and splotchy.

He feels warm again, just a little. Just a little.


End file.
